Tradition
by justanoutlaw
Summary: Robin is excited for her wedding day, but the person she wants most there, is the one who can never come.


"I'll see you tomorrow, my love," Alice mumbled into Robin's ear moments before midnight. "I'll be the one in white."

"We'll both be the ones in white."

"Touché."

Robin watched as Hook lead Alice out to the car. Despite neither being very traditional, they had followed Hook and Regina's insistence on spending the night before their wedding apart. Their dresses, outside basic description, were even a surprise.

Robin was happy to finally get to marry the love of her life, yet felt a twinge in her heart as she watched Alice and Hook. Tomorrow, he'd give his daughter away and they'd have the traditional father/daughter dance. Sure, Robin would have Henry (the closest thing to a brother-since Roland had grown up far away-or father figure she ever had), but it wasn't the same. There were many times in her life that she wished her father had been there, but never more than in that moment.

Letting out a sigh, she changed out of her dinner rehearsal clothes and climbed under the covers. Her first night sleeping alone since the curse broke and it felt odd. She shook of the feeling and shut her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

She stood in front of the mirror, marveling at her dress. While Alice had told her that she was going a little more traditional, Robin went modern. It was a mermaid dress that accented her curves. She had opted out of a veil and her hair had been moved into a updo, being held up by some flowers (her something blue).

"You look beautiful."

The mysterious, sudden voice caused her to spin around. It was a face she had only seen in pictures or in Henry's books, but she'd know it anywhere. Her father. He was wearing a tux, his facial hair neat.

"Dad," she whispered.

"I just can't believe you're old enough to get married," he continued as if she hadn't said anything. "Seems like just yesterday that I was holding you for the first time."

Tears glistened in her eyes as he stepped closer to her. She didn't know what to say and instead reached forward to grab his hand. He was real. Not a hologram or a picture. He was actually standing in front of her.

"You're really here."

"Where else would I be on my daughter's wedding day?"

"I…I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, but I've always been with you."

"Guess the afterlife doesn't have Facetime," she mumbled, a tiny smirk on her face.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Afraid not." He took her in, letting out a deep breath. "You have no idea how proud I am of you. You've become such an amazing woman."

"I just wanted to be like you, to live up to your name."

"Nah, you never had to do that. You were always perfect by just being you."

She let out a content sigh, holding his hand closer. "I wish this weren't a dream. That you could really bee with me tomorrow."

"I will be, same as always."

"It's not the same, not in the way that Alice has her dad."

"I know. And nothing would make me happier than to walk you down the aisle. I know this can't make up for it, but maybe this could be your something old."

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a golden ring on a chain. He clasped it around her neck and they both looked into the full length mirror in front of them. She touched the ring, smiling a bit.

"This was my wedding ring," he explained. "If you have this, you'll know I'll always be with you."

She turned around, throwing her arms around his neck. He grinned and hugged her tighter. "I don't want to wake up," she whispered. "I don't want to let go."

"But if you don't, how are you supposed to marry that amazing girl."

She sighed, pulling away, knowing that he was right. "I love you Dad."

"I love you too, Peanut, Have an amazing wedding day."

He kissed her forehead and a shining light fell over them both.

Her eyes flickered open as she heard Regina calling her name. She leaned over and saw the same chain that had been in her dream, the ring still hanging off of it. She picked it up and held it close to her chest.

"Thanks, Dad," she whispered.


End file.
